Onward
by NobodysAngel80
Summary: Four years.  Four long, lonely years since she had disappeared right in front of his eyes.  Everyone else had moved on.  Why couldn't he?


Author's Note – First off, I have to apologize to Ichigo for being partially inspired for this story by Avril LaVigne's "My Happy Ending" (the other half was Kansas' "Carry On My Wayward Son" which is so much less embarrassing). I'm sorry Kurosaki-san! *bows* Please forgive me, but it just seemed to _fit_ for you and Rukia, you know? Still, don't worry because I plan to make sure he's very happy in the fic-to-come. As I'm following more the anime storyline and less the manga, for the purposes of this fic, the whole Fullbring arc didn't happen – mainly because I loved how the most recent Bleach episode handled it (and I won't spoil it, I promise!) As always, everything you recognize belongs to Tite Kubo and I just have fun with them.

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><p>As smart as he was, classes were still a lot tougher in university. It was probably a good thing that he didn't have any more Substitute Shinigami duties to attend to; pre-med was tough enough without having to worry about chasing Hollows all over Tokyo too. The city was a lot busier than Karakura ever had been, and it had a rhythm that Kurosaki Ichigo found it easy to fall into. He had made new friends over the past four years, and his friends had even come to university with him. Well, the original friends at least… He didn't think, after four years, he could really call anyone from Soul Society "friends" anymore. But he didn't think about that anymore. He had to concentrate on living his life as a college student, not a Substitute Shinigami anymore. And it was better that way, getting to have a real life. At least, that was what he told himself.<p>

Ishida was in the pre-med program too, Orihime was studying culinary arts (thank God she'd learned to put red bean paste ONLY on her own food!) and the two had been together now since senior year of high school. It was ridiculous how blissfully happy those two were together, and they did their best not to rub his nose in what a great couple they were. Tatsuki had gotten a full athletic scholarship and was studying sports medicine, wanting to be a personal trainer, Sado wasn't in classes, but had found some measure of success with an up and coming band in the area, where his exotic looks and mean bass playing was making him a very popular fixture for the fans in the Tokyo clubs. Ichigo used to tease him about all the fangirls he was getting, and loved watching Sado look so quietly uncomfortable at the mention of squealing fangirls… until he noticed that Tatsuki was beginning to look faintly murderous. That, and the time he caught them half naked making out on Sado's couch had firmly etched three things into his mind: that Tatsuki was in fact a girl, she did in fact have impressive "accoutrements", (and an even more impressive left hook) and Sado was quite violently "spoken for".

Life had fallen into a quiet sort of rhythm since the end of high school and that brief summer off, and his three years at Tokyo University. Studying, ramen, exams…of course there was the matter of money. Soul Society might have not kept in touch, but they did keep the bills paid; after all, being paid based on bounties on the heads of the Hollows killed, konsos performed, and number of times that Ichigo and his companions had saved the world as they knew it (what were they up to at this point? 5? 6? More?) did tend to make them some of the most quietly wealthy young people in the history of the world. Those black credit cards that magically had no limit whatsoever as far as anyone could tell had come in handy, because tuition and books weren't cheap. It was really the only thing that reminded Ichigo that the whole year with Soul Society, Hueco Mundo and saving the world had actually existed as something more than a crazy fever dream.

Well, that and her.

He didn't think about the day that she disappeared. He actively tried not to think about it, was a more accurate statement. It just depressed him, and then he got yelled at by Tatsuki for scowling so much. It was hard to push it down, to not think about everything that she had changed in his life, the sense of purpose that she had granted him. People usually couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when their world changed irrevocably forever. Ichigo, however, could do exactly that. It had been the moment that a certain violet eyed midget had traipsed into his bedroom window, bringing Chaos and Hell with her. Amazing how big explosions come in such tiny packages. Had he known the kind of havoc she was going to wreak on his life, much less on his heart on that day that she faded from his view, he'd have booted her little ass right out the window she climbed in through.

No he wouldn't. He was just lying to himself if he even thought it.

He had searched for her at first, waiting for weeks, months even, hoping to see her come to visit him at school, or maybe stopping by Urahara's shop and seeing her there getting a gigai, on her way to come see him. He didn't know how much he had been hoping for a phone call, a letter, a postcard, homing pigeon, smoke signals, something, anything to say that she hadn't just…forgotten. But nothing ever came. Then, when he slowly began to see flickers of the spirits that he hadn't seen for over a year, he felt his hopes rise again; surely if he were regaining his spiritual powers, she'd come back. The quiet little cackle in the back of his mind returned, the low, gravely tone of the old man returned, a city full of souls and Hollows returned… but she didn't. And eventually he had to come to terms with what that meant.

His friends were overjoyed when he told them that his spiritual powers were returning, but during the months before their reiatsu was able to leak enough into him to jumpstart his own, they had become accustomed to fighting the simple Hollows that manifested without his help. Indeed, even now at University, they could usually get to the Hollow and eliminate it before Ichigo even knew it was there. He didn't want to say anything, but he felt a bit like an old warhorse put out to pasture. For a rather important portion of his life until this point in time, he had been on the front lines, the hero, the protector. He had spent a year having to trust other people to protect him, and after the fact, they were just so used to being the ones to protect him that it was second nature for them to do so by this point. He smiled and laughed about being able to relax now, but he wasn't under any illusions that they actually believed him. They knew him too well. Then again, so had she.

It wasn't just the familiar feeling of strength or the comfort of not being alone in his head again. It was the hope – however tremulous – that maybe now that he was useful again, maybe now that he was strong again, that maybe she'd come back. But even though he watched on every street he walked down, in every store window and park and riverfront, in every sunrise and night sky, she never came back. He found himself buying bunny keychains and bracelets, tee shirts and pencil cases; stocking his refrigerator with juice boxes and rice dumplings, and surprising himself with how much he was hoping that she would show up one day, perhaps just walking through his window again like that night that seemed like it was a lifetime ago.

She never came.

His first year of university was hard, but that was a blessing in its own way – it was hard to slip into depression when he was working so hard to try and keep up with his classes and his friends. His days and evenings were full enough, with classes and homework and study groups and frequently having his friends lounging around in the living room of the little off campus apartment he'd gotten, and he took other classes just to have something else to fill the hours with (like being pre-med wasn't enough!) Surprisingly, it helped, and he found himself making a small circle of friends who didn't know about Hollows and Soul Society and Aizen the douchebag, as Tatsuki had dubbed him in a purely Tatsuki fashion. It was nice to just have normal conversations sometimes, even if those conversations revolved round chess (which he was surprised to find that he liked) literature (which he wasn't very surprised to find that he _didn't_ like) and philosophy of mathematics (math was tough enough as it was without throwing philosophy into it!).

Still, as full and busy as his days were, his nights made up for it. That was when he couldn't distract himself. It didn't matter how long into the night he stayed up reading and studying, it didn't matter how many clubs he visited, or how often he and Ishida played chess and the dark haired young man commented on his growing skill for strategy, eventually he finished his homework, club meetings ended and everyone went home. And he was left to think. Thinking brought back memories, and at night, especially when he dreamed, memories were inescapable.

Four years. Four years since he had last saw her. Nearly half a decade. Nothing to a Shinigami, they could live for thousands of years if they didn't fall in battle first. But to a human, who's lives were measured in decades, not centuries, and certainly not millennia, it seemed eternal. Orihime seemed to understand the best and on the worst nights, the ones that seemed endless, where he couldn't keep himself busy enough to banish her from his mind and he simply lay there on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why he hadn't been worth fighting for when he had so obviously thought she was worth fighting for, Orihime would drag Ishida and Sado and Tatsuki over with her to have an impromptu sleepover and force him out of his blackest mood before it overtook him. It was hell on their classes the next day, but he suspected that they knew how much he needed it because no one ever complained; not even Ishida, who had made it his personal mission in life to surpass his grades.

He had settled in a bit, and the span between the bouts of sadness and anger and longing were longer now, but they never went away. Perhaps it was the not knowing that was the most painful part. He wasn't sure but he thought if he could just _know_, maybe it would give him a sense of closure. He didn't know what was going on, what was happening with her, if she was happy or if busy or promoted or married with two kids and a dog or had gone on a murderous rampage during a Black Friday sale when someone else bought the last Chappy lunchbox. He just didn't know. He didn't like that part, not when she was such a big part of his life. It didn't seem right, it seemed unfinished and he felt slightly adrift. It humbled him a little to think of how the girl had been a life preserver for him, how she had pushed him forward, made him think and grow and…love.

He could admit it now, that he loved her. Had loved her for a long time, probably from the moment that she had shoved that blade into his chest and changed his world. Maybe it was when she had stepped between her brother's blade and him as he lay on the sidewalk, beaten and bleeding. Maybe he had fallen in love with her when she looked up at him in that white robe, hanging suspended in front of the Sokyoku with that expression of disbelief and fond exasperation and not quite concealed gratitude, telling him that she had told him not to save her. He had told her that he would always come for her, no matter what. But now she was beyond his reach, and seemed to want it to stay that way. He told himself it was for the best, that they were from two different worlds and of course he couldn't go live with her in Soul Society, and she couldn't stay here, unaging and eternal, as he grew old and eventually died. It couldn't work, and he had _known_ that, but so many other impossible things had been achieved that what was one more? Apparently, with some things, it didn't matter how strong or stubborn or resolved you were. It didn't matter how much you wanted it or how hard you wanted to fight it. It didn't matter how many enemies he could defeat or how many friends he could protect. It didn't matter…how much he loved her or how his soul screamed out for her. Maybe, just maybe, some things really weren't meant to be.

Maybe it was time to start looking for a new happy ending.

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><p>Well, hope you enjoyed it! That one was much longer than my normal ones, but rest assured, I'm actually working on a cohesive story. There will be OC's so if that turns you off, I'm giving fair warning. But I hope that you all read and enjoy, and of course, reviews are always appreciated. Thanks so much everyone, and I'll see you all next time!<p> 


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